Mayor Mills Tango
by NMartin
Summary: SwanQueen One-Shot. Emma hears someone singing the Cell Block Tango in the next room. Curious, she goes to see who it is, and finds the last person she thought she would see.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N - First SwanQueen fic I write, inspired by a tumblr post. _****_Maybe I'll continue it and make it longer, but I wanted to test the waters first with this little thing. _****_Special thanks to cimbetau for beta reading the fic._**

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Emma opened her eyes, her sleep interrupted by the sound of the drops of water in the kitchen sink. Once, and again, and again. One step, and then another, and then another water drop. Then more water drops, and more steps. Some fingers drumming against the table added to the rhythm, making it impossible for the woman to even close her eyes. Pop. Six. Squish. Uh uh. Cicero. Lipschitz. Unfamiliar voices repeated those words in the next room and, feeling curious, she stood up and walked to the door. It was barely open, and a man's voice came from inside.

"_And now the six married murderesses of the Cook County Jail in their rendition of 'The Cell Block Tango'."_

Emma closed her eyes, swallowing hard. She had been staying at Granny's Bed and Breakfast for a week—her apartment had flooded and there wasn't enough room at David and Mary Margaret's apartment. The sheriff pushed the door slightly, observing the interior of the room. She couldn't see anyone, but an unknown voice spoke, the song still playing in the background. Then its volume suddenly increased, a very familiar voice singing along.

_He had it coming, he had it coming_

_He only had himself to blame_

_If you'd have been there, if you'd have heard it_

_I betcha you would have done the same_

Emma's jaw fell open. Was the person singing...? No, it couldn't be. She pushed the door again, until she finally sighted a woman dancing in the middle of the room, wearing black underwear and with one leg on a chair. _Holy shit. _Emma swallowed at the sight of Regina's bare leg, and admired the fact that she was also wearing her usual high heels. Regina danced with the music, sitting in the chair, spreading her legs, spinning around and making a combination of movements that made the mayor look like a professional dancer. Her dark hair was disheveled, and her body shone as if it was covered in sweat. Emma sighed, trying to control her breathing. _I can't be turned on because of this, _she thought. _But she looks so hot…_

_They had it coming, they had it coming_

_They had it coming all along_

_I didn't do it, but if I done it_

_How could you tell me that I was wrong?_

Emma felt Regina's eyes staring at her, and immediately felt the need to crawl into a hole too. She waited for the mayor to throw a fireball at her, to have her walk up to her and slap her, but instead the brunette approached her slowly, her high heels clicking against the floor. "Miss Swan…" she whispered as she came closer. "See something you like?"

"I, uh…" _Fuck, this has to be a dream or something. She cannot be standing there, looking at me with bedroom eyes and in her underwear. Fuck, Emma, look at her eyes_—_I said eyes, not... Holy fuck that bra is hot. Focus, Emma Swan, focus. _"I was just… uh… going to go." the sheriff turned around and started walking away.

"No." Regina said, grabbing her wrist to prevent her from leaving. "Come here." Regina dragged her into the room, closing the door after her and pushing her onto the chair.

"Regina what-"

"Shh." the mayor hushed her, looking scarily sensual in that moment, her dark eyes matching Emma's before moving down again to her lips. "Don't talk." she whispered, leaning closer and finally sitting on her lap. "Miss Swan…" she whispered again, tilting her head, her eyes locked with Emma's. She was dangerously close, to the point that her lips now hovered over Emma's. The sheriff closed her eyes, ready to be kissed.

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"Miss Swan!" Emma heard Regina call from the door of her office. The sheriff opened her eyes, suddenly realizing that it had all been a dream and that she was drooling on one of the police reports she had to fill out. "Were you sleeping at work?!" she heard the mayor question, her heels clicking against the floor.

"Uh, no… Well, yes, but Regina it has happened just once and I was already finished."

"Well, when you decided to take your job seriously, go pick up Leroy at Granny's diner and take him to his house, he's drunk again." the mayor gave her another severe look before turning on her heels and walking away.

_That woman is going to kill me one of these days, _Emma thought as she picked up her red jacket. _And I am never going to watch a musical with Mary Margaret ever again._

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___**Reviews will be very appreciated**** :)**_


	2. Answer to a Review

**This is not a continuation of the story, but a response to a review I just received some minutes ago.**

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**Dear 'Guest':**

**I'd take your review seriously if you had left some kind of way I could contact you. But, since you have decided to lose 5 minutes of your precious time leaving that hateful review, I am going to lose 5 minutes of my actually valuable time and answer you.**

**As you can see, I am a writer. I write stories because I like to, not because I am payed or something like that. This small story was written in 15 minutes, so it obviously it's not a **_**Magnum Opus**_ **(Magnum opus, in case you don't know, is Latin and means "great work", and usually refers to the largest, and perhaps the best, greatest, most popular, or most renowned achievement of an artist).**

**You did not miss any point to this. This is simply a story of the sheriff of Storybrooke having an odd dream about the mayor. Nothing else. I decided it would be fun to write it, so I did. In fact, I've been a musical theatre fan since I was five years old, and Chicago is one of my favorite movie musicals. But I had never thought of doing something to combine them.**

**In fact, this story is based on a post I saw on Tumblr (****this one****).**

**I was not bored in class while I wrote this. I was at home, writing on my laptop, going through the list of prompts I am sent daily, and I thought: 'Hey, let's write this, it's going to be fun'.**

**I am 18 years old, and maybe you could think that I am just another horny teenager who just wants to see her favorite fictional lesbians have hot sex, but I am not. I am a mature person, with responsibilities, and who takes writing seriously. I'd like to be a professional writer someday, and I am trying my best to do good works. But obviously, sometimes writers don't want to do masterpieces and they decide to just have fun with the characters (and sometimes that includes make them be out of character).**

**This little story has been useful to practice my English (it's obviously not my mother tongue) and to get my fingers to write. So yes, reviews are always appreciated, even if the story is just 829 words long.**

**Do you want to talk about epic fails? Because I honestly thought the review was about the story, not about you. How does someone decide to hate on someone on the internet because they have not liked the story? And most important, how does someone decide to do it anonymously? Again, that's coward.**

**I hope you sleep well tonight. No, wait. I don't want you to sleep well tonight. I want you to have a nightmare about a thousand of shitty little stories with Regina being out of character following you everywhere you go, reminding you that sometimes fanfiction is not serious.**

**Meanwhile, I'll go work on some prompts I've received a few minutes ago, and maybe I'll do a sequel to this story. I'll call it **_**Being rude on the internet is not okay, buddy**_**. The title is still provisional, but if that sequel works I'll do a third part called _Anonymous hate is a proof of cowardly_.**

**Lots of love,**

**NMartin.**


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